Tuesday, April 27, 2004

I've got major post-partum depression, work overload and creeping carpal tunnel syndrome, the latter of which means the more time I spend away from the keyboard the better. Had a long talk with my friend Maida about basically how much is too much -- in other words, what will it take for Sarah to snap? Hard to say, but I must be close to that line right about now. I'm not going to slit my wrists or drown my children in the bathtub, though. I'm tired of being tired. My brain isn't functioning properly. My thoughts are completely disordered. I feel totally unsure of the surest of things, like the ground beneath my feet might just give way at any moment. I feel like I'm inhabiting this body and using her mouth and arms and hands but I'm not really here, or I'm not really her, or some combination of that.

Monday, April 12, 2004

There are strange things happening in my house today involving stuffed bunnies and black electrical tape, not to mention my boyfriend's ass, but I think that's about all the detail I can go into here.

In other news, I spent Easter Sunday in the emergency department getting antibiotics (in the ass. it's all ass, all the time here in the Big City) for my raging sinus infection. My darling friend Maida sat with me while Brian drove around town with the screaming children in the car so as not to expose them to the horrific germs in the hospital. Afterwards we picked up some pot stickers and sesame beef and headed home, where I raided the boys' easter baskets that my cousin sent them. I figure I'm doing them a favor and saving their teeth. Besides, they spent the day with their Abuelita who no doubt loaded them up with sugar.

I am now officially without health insurance, so yesterday is going to turn out to be quite an expensive Easter. The antibiotics alone were $100, and the ER visit will be around $300. But still, it's good to be functioning again. Yesterday morning I was a complete and utter wreck.

Saturday, April 10, 2004

Both girls have been sleeping well at night, Carrie Anne has TWICE slept for 8+ hours, Allison usually averages around 5 1/2 - 6 and then goes right back down after her 4-a.m.-or-so feeding.

Of course this would all be fabulous for me if I weren't incredibly sick (yes, AGAIN with the head cold/sinus infection thing from hell) and behind on my work (horribly, horribly, they're-going-to-fire-me behind).

The crashing disappointment of the past two weeks has been the realization that these girls do not travel well. At all. They HATE the car. Which is a problem for me, since I spend long portions of my day in the car (dropping kids at school, picking kids up, making work-related deliveries and pick-ups). My choices are to take them with me and listen to them scream, or leave them home and let Brian listen to them scream. Yesterday Brian and I both went out on an expedition, and there was no leaving them behind to let the dogs listen to them scream, so we took them with us. And scream they did. They screamed in traffic. They screamed at the fancy-schmancy wine store. They screamed at our little picnic. They screamed in the car on the way to Costco. They screamed in Costco (where at least 5 different people came up to us and said "twins?" Um, no, we are two single parents with incredibly similar babies. Yes, TWINS you idiot). They screamed in the car on the way to Home Depot. They screamed in the parking lot of Home Depot. They screamed all the way home. Mind you, I was nursing them every chance I got in an attempt to quiet them down, and we were both doing our best to get them to nap, but the horrible truth is they WILL NOT NAP unless the circumstances are JUST SO. When we got home all four of us were a frayed and miserable bunch. Allison fell asleep as soon as I had her snuggled up to me on the couch, and Carrie, after a little bit of nursing, fell asleep as well. Today, I think we'll just stay home. I've got work to do anyway. And we have 400 cans of chicken noodle soup, 2 tons of diapers and an enormous carton of wipes, so there's really no need to leave the house for the next 6 months.

Saturday, April 03, 2004

Boring Parenting Post

Today in the Big City we instituted a New Plan. The New Plan is that the girls will not be allowed to nurse in anything less than 2-hour intervals. So far it's working pretty well. I had slipped into the horrible habit of shoving a nipple into their mouths each and every time they cried, not because they were hungry but mostly to get them to shut up, thereby turning myself into a walking, talking binky. A walking, talking, incoherent, mumbling, depressed, run-down and at times irrationally angry binky. Not the kind of binky you want to be around, let's just say.

So, I am a binky no more. I've gone back to being "just like a cow," as one of the clever kids in Jack's former day care pointed out to me one day on the playground.

Friday, April 02, 2004

Today

Today I ate an entire mango by myself for breakfast. There is nothing more delicious, in my book, than a fresh mango.

Later, while walking down by the pond I saw two great blue herons. As I approached, one of them decided I was getting too close and lifted its enormous frame up out of the water and took off across the pond, its wingtips just barely grazing the surface of the water with each stroke.

I may have a sore throat and be behind on my work and exhausted and hormonal. I may have days where Brian finds me sitting outside on the curb crying in a sort of numbed silence after hour upon hour of nursing. This may be pledge drive week on NPR. It may be looking like a rainy weekend. But. TODAY I ate a mango and saw a blue heron fly across a pond, so really, how bad can it be?

Thursday, April 01, 2004

I'm Nobody's Fool

It's 10:21 p.m. and everyone -- even Brian -- is in bed. So happy April Fool's day. No one so much as told me that my shoes were untied today -- not one single trick or gag was played on me. There are still 100 minutes left in the day, more or less, but I think my chances of getting fooled are slim to none.

Bummer.

Not that I like being made a fool of, but still.

In other news, I'm happy to report that the mini marshmallows in my hot cocoa are FAT FREE! It says so right on the bag. That must mean they're good for me, right?